


The Pitch Leanings of a Helmsman

by BagtheBagisnotaBag



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Biowires, Blood and Violence, Bodily Fluids, Body Horror, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Helmstroll Sollux Captor, Injury, M/M, Omorashi, Other, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purring Trolls (Homestuck), Tentacle Bondage, Tentacles, Torture, Troll Biology (Homestuck), Wet & Messy, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:12:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BagtheBagisnotaBag/pseuds/BagtheBagisnotaBag
Summary: Your name is Sollux and you have just been installed in the helmscolumn. Equius, The Helmsmantenance troll in charge, checks the biowires over for faults.'He reaches for your bulge sheath again and with a lighter touch than you thought he could manage he starts caressing the opening. Your hum clicks up a notch as you fight against the swelling of your bulge. Fuck. You know you’re going to piss yourself if you give yourself any leeway. But despite all your struggling and clenching down on the bulge that’s now too big for your sheath, it slips out at his touch.“Good work, Captor.” Equius says, his words clouded by his own chirr, deeper than yours and twice as steady.'





	The Pitch Leanings of a Helmsman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xagave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xagave/gifts).



The first time you’re installed you don’t know what’s happening. The wires crawl up your legs and burrow into your skin, piercing into you with sharp stabs of pain. Your hands are caught and pulled above you by more fleshy tentacles that similarly break through your skin. You freak, automatically sending out a blast of psionics, but it does nothing. The crackling red and blue power leaves through your eyes and spreads over your skin but the room stays unscathed. 

The slimy biowires continue their decent as you struggle against them. Each one slowly coils over the others until it finds space on the surface of your bleeding and painful skin, before cutting through and settling where it lands. You try to fight against their grip but your blasts of psionic energy only drains you as the power flows down along the wires and dissipates into their coiling mass. The pain is all consuming and you cry out at it, but there is no escape.

It takes them hours to finally settle and by that point you’re shivering and weak in their hold, your psionics almost drained from your struggling. They extend down from the ceiling and up from the floor, covering you down to your shoulders and up to your waist. They ooze with your blood and their own secretions. Your throat is raw from the hours of screaming and your mind is numb from the repeated pain. A shadow moves across your vision for the first time since you were placed here. It’s your Helmsmaintenance troll, Equius.

“Helmsman. Status update.” You don’t respond, you can’t respond. You’re too weak to react at all. “Helmsman,” Equius says grabbing you roughly by the chin and forcing you to face him. His Helmsmaintenance uniform is impeccable and you seethe at the sight of him. His face shows similar hatred past his long straight hair and cracked sunshades. You don’t respond, you can hardly blink behind the goggles he forced on you, weak as you are. “If you won’t speak, so be it.” He sneers and despite your precarious health, you feel the coil of hate simmer and bloom for the troll walking away from you. 

As the biowires settle, and their secretions dull the pain of their installation, you finally feel the edge of exhaustion creep into your vision. You blink slowly, fighting the rising wave of enveloping unconsciousness. Your arms are stretched above your head in an uncomfortable position, your shirt is crusty with blood and other dried liquids, and your bladder pangs with need. Fuck that though, there’s no way you’re letting those tentacles into your bulge sheath. Sleep drags down on you, a heavier weight than any of your other pains. 

It pulls you under and you sleep.

 

When you wake the pain has dulled to an ignorable throb and Equius is on the other side of the room, fiddling with the console there. But that’s not the first thing you notice. No, the first thing you notice is the sharp aching lump that is your bladder. You have a dire need to hold yourself. It’s painfully full.

You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling but in your current position you don’t know how you’re going to fix that little problem, and it is a problem. You try to pull your legs closer together but only manage to pull at the wires causing a flair of pain to grow up your legs. Fuck. This is a big problem. You would just piss yourself but you don’t want to give Equius the satisfaction of holding that over you. Similarly, you would ask him how to solve your problem as it _is_ his job to provide for the helmsman. Asking him would solve it without resorting to pissing yourself but he’d still have the knowledge that you had to ask _him_ for help. So to reiterate, fuck.

Equius sneers at your weakened state and leaves the room. Once you are alone you finally let the desperation show on your face and search your pan. You’ve researched helmstrolls before but you managed to miss that one important tidbit of information. You don’t know how helmstrolls pee and the only troll who could probably tell you is a sweaty globesack of epic proportions. Fuck him honestly.

You clench down on the muscles holding your sheath closed as a wave of need washes over you, you can feel how weak your muscles are after the strain you were put under while being installed. Your bladder is a constant throb in your abdomen, it drowns out all other pains. Minutes pass, you don’t know how many, you just know that the pressure is growing on your weakened bladder muscles to your desperate frustration. You don’t want to soil yourself as your first act as a helmsman. 

The door swishes open as you squirm minutely, trying not shift in the wires too much and pull on them. Equius is back. You straighten as much as you can from your slouch, matching him stare for stare as he comes towards you. “Are you ready for your evaluation now, low blood?”

What you aim to say is, “Go lick your sweaty swollen globes,” and other assorted slurs but all that comes out of your torn throat is a low growl. It’s layered with black leanings, pitched deep and raw. You have to cut it off short as the tip of your bulge peaks out of your sheath and you clench down on your bladder again. Your sheath is trying to part to let out your bulge so you can piss. It almost succeeded while you were distracted. 

Equius grins back at you through cracked teeth. It seems that despite your dire condition he managed to catch the point of your vocalizations. “I will take that as a yes.” He says. Your growled response is anything but refusing. You’re not one to back down and show weakness in front of your kismesis.

Equius doesn’t beat around the proverbial greenery, he slides his hand between the biowires that have swarmed up around your stomach, jolting them, which sends a surge of both pain and a rush of endorphins through you. You tremble as he presses over the slight swell of your bladder where the skin is now studded with wires and you have to close your eyes for a second to calm your swelling bulge. This whole thing might prove to be a mistake, your bladder could break at any moment and heating things up won't help that problem.

Ignorant to your condition, Equius’ hand continues south. He takes his time, fondling the wires where they’re attached to you as if checking for faults. It hurts and from the look on his face, he knows that. You wish he would come close enough that you could bite him but he’s keeping to the facade of distant professionalism and does not kiss you, the fucker.

His hand finds the hard chitin of your bonebulge covering and the damp slit it protects.

“What have I found here, low blood? Did some of the ports not take?” Equius grins viciously at you, all his cracked teeth on display. His hand moves up to press against your stomach above your bonebulge, your thighs tremble and pull together, mindless of the pain, as you clench down on the desperate need his touch brings. “I will have to fix that for you. It would be inexcusable of me to leave you with bad fittings.”

A low chirr has started in your thorax, deep clicks and warbles that vibrate through you. It stops and starts as you fight against your pitch instinct to show your anger and lust, and your more primal instinct to stop the vibrations reverberating through your bladder. The lust wins out.

Equius pulls at a biowire and you tense, you didn’t know it was even possible to tense more than you already were. The wire slides out with a disconcerting slither of pain, like copper sharp on your tongue and the feel of joints grinding together, then disconnects from its port with a wet pop. 

“This will have to do.” He says. With his other hand, he reaches for your bulge sheath again and with a lighter touch than you thought he could manage he starts caressing the opening. Your hum clicks up a notch as you fight against the swelling of your bulge. Fuck. You know you’re going to piss yourself if you give yourself any leeway. If you let go too soon Equius will know it wasn’t slurry that came out. No troll can come that fast and if they can then you aren’t one of them. Equius has made you come enough to know this. 

But despite all your struggling and clenching down on the bulge that’s now too big for your sheath, it slips out at his touch. “Good work, Captor,” Equius says, his words clouded by his own chirr, deeper than yours and twice as steady. He curls his fingers enough for your bulge to slide into the cool space his hand makes as you try to hide your shivering. 

Then his grin turns vicious and the hand holding the spare biowire moves back into the withering mass at your base. You feel as he passes the wire to the hand holding your bulge. The pink tentacle withers up against your own yellow one, searching around, causing a dry moan to escape you. The two slide together, you clamp down on your aching bladder again, arching up as you try to get your hands down to grip yourself, but there’s no chance of that happening. Your arms are as trapped as your bulge is right now and Equius seems to be loving every second of it if the stain forming over the movement in his pants is any indication. 

It takes a few minutes of slow searching and coiling but finally, the biowire finds what it’s looking for. It has wrapped itself around your bulge from the base to the tip, its own tip hovering above yours. Then it starts probing the head of your bulge. 

Equius’ hand is still wrapped around both of the withering tentacles at your crotch but he doesn’t help them along. He just holds them and leers at you. You can almost taste his satisfaction. He’s doing nothing out of the ordinary for a Helmsmaintenance troll apart from the wriggly in his pants and he knows it. The biowire finally stops its probing at the tip of your bulge and sinks down over it. You can’t help but cry out to Equius’ delight. The sudden sensation almost made the muscles holding your bladder let go. 

The biowire slowly uncoils from around your bulge, enveloping it instead in twisted starts and stops. It almost feels like the inside of a nook except. Fuck. It sucks you in, clinging to your bulge and constraining it enough that your bulge can’t thrash like it would in a nook. So this is how it’s solved, huh? You pee into the biowires. You already knew that they were sustaining you so you wouldn’t have to eat, feeding you through their many ports, but they also take your waste away. You guess this is better than constantly pissing yourself as you dangle from the helmscolumn. 

Your bladder’s trembling, spasms shooting through you. You have to let go _right now_ it hurts too much not to. You try to relax, finally letting yourself go as you’ve been wanting to for so many hours now and for a second nothing happens. Your bladder is still hard and sore, your bulge being squeezed too tightly for the liquid to go through and you sob, shaking and desperate. 

Equius strokes the base of your bulge where the wire hasn’t covered it yet, enjoying your pain, a deep satisfied hum overlaying his pitch chirr. At his soft touch, you finally let go. The feeling of needing to piss intensifies as the first trickle leaves you and you whine, bearing down on the feeling, then it starts to flow more forcefully. The biowire continues its slow process enveloping your bulge as you piss into it. Equius clicks as your anguished expression and strokes you through it. For a second he squeezes your bulge enough for the torrent to stop and you sob, your head tipping back at the desperate need coursing through you. But after a second his hand strokes further down, a finger entering your hook and adding to the pleasure overlaying everything. You start pissing again, you can’t help it. 

It’s minutes before the flow slows and all through it, Equius matches your anguished cries with chirrs of his own and fingers your nook in rough strokes. You end up tipping over the edge into orgasm almost before you stop pissing. Your gene bladder empties as well into the biowire. All you can do is shudder and moan. 

By the end of it the biowire has fully covered your bulge. Your sheath tries to pull your bulge back in as the aftershocks fade, for a second it catches on the sheath, then your bulge slip inside, the biowire still wrapped around it. The wire has stopped moving where it covers your bulge as still as all the rest.

You slump. Equius pulls his finger out of your nook and you shiver weakly. “Inspection complete. You should be fully integrated with the ship now. If there are any other problems, you know who to ask for.” The lusty purr is still underlying his words but he ignores it. The front of his pants are soaked with both sweat and the slick juices of his bulge. You file that image away in the back of your head for later blackmail.

He walks stiffly out the door, a mess. You close your eyes and let yourself be held up by the wires. That whole experience was exhausting.

Worth it.


End file.
